The Hermit
by public static void
Summary: There comes a time when enlightenment and wisdom are only achieved by following alternate rules. Still, Hermione swears to never let anyone find out she likes to read the cards.


Her first card is The Magician. She frowns when she turns it around on the table. The image is distorted by her recent dreams and for an instant, what she sees changes. Gone is the moon in the background, replaced by the head of a snake with red eyes. The looming man hunched over his own hand, where a tiny broom floats over it, becomes Harry. The surrounding plants turn to snakes and the river water becomes blood.

She sets down the card over the black tablecloth. There is a reason why she refuses to touch her deck. The constant blurring between reality and her nightmares leaves her exhausted and wary.

Yet her input is needed. She isn't sure how much will her findings will be believed but, as always, she tries to make herself heard over the others' voices. Yes, they have facts. Yes, they have physical evidence. No, it doesn't mean her intuition, her senses, are wrong.

She scratches the back of her left hand before continuing.

The Magician on the table doesn't stare at her, but when her glance falls over the card she can feel its power. The Magician is a resourceful card which never fails to remind her of the Headmaster but lately, she's been seeing only Harry.

A thought enters her mind and she promptly shakes it off. He won't be defeated when the time for a battle against his foe finally happens. He has the skill and he has the courage.

That is why the bird bearing bad news comes next. A jolt of energy courses through her body when she picks up the card and she's afraid to set it down. Maybe, if she returns it to the deck and finds another way... But the cards have already been called and the current future is being told. She doesn't want to risk a change now that victory is so close. Only a few more Horcruxes and then the final threat.

Still, the bird keeps flying by, carrying on its claws the body of a man pierced by ten swords. She can feel the irony on her hands, where the card she usually favours is the one who condemns her friend. The sacrifice will be greater than she had expected, and the suspicion eating her mind becomes a certainty instead of a theory. There is one more soul fragment to be destroyed. Her eyes briefly stop over the river blood before going back to the card

It also gives her hope. As her fingers brush over the image, she thinks of the blessing to come. The Dark Lord's death? Their survival, even if the worst comes to pass? Maybe even a kiss, stolen behind the scenes of a never-ending war. But for a kiss, she doesn't wish for The Magician.

Her next card is where her heart lays, she knows when her hand travels to the deck. It's not a single card what she pulls, but two. An accident, albeit a very comforting one. The jolt is there again, sealing her current future as something that will happen if she follows her current course.

The Knight of Cups, the reason of a strange affection. He's charming without knowing and pleasant when he wishes to be. He's the kiss she's been waiting for, and now she feels so close to the moment that her thoughts deviate from the other card she pulls. The Devil. She understands in a heartbeat; he's her addiction. The greed for him is only as great as the bond they share. He depends on her just as she depends on him. He doesn't realise that yet, though.

Then the last card comes and it binds everything together. The Chariot.

Victory.

Hermione smiles at last. The comfort of being able to know what comes is small. Divination is, after all, as unreliable as the fleeting heartbeat that can stop at any time. Yet it is steady and the rhythm can be followed.

Still, she cleanses her deck and tucks it into the small silken pouch she carries everywhere. The brocade, coloured with the rainbow of a moonlit stream, reminds her of herself.

"Are you there, Hermione?"

In a second, the pouch is hiding inside her endless purse.

"What were you doing here?" Ron asks, frowning in confusion. "We've been looking for you everywhere."

Her smile helps her evade the question.

"Thinking, Ronald. From time to time, I like to think."

"From time to time? It seems all you have been doing for the last seven years is thinking."

They bicker as they make their way out of her room at Shell's Cottage. Harry's sitting at the table and for an instant, there are snakes around him.

Then the Chariot comes to mind and hope blooms in her heart.

* * *

 **For the Ministry of Magic. Proven Interest in Divination - Task: Have a character using Tarot Cards in your story.**

 **In canon, Hermione is someone who refuses to believe in Treelawney's teachings of Divination but believes in predicting the future by using Arothmancy. Following that path, I came to the conclusion that she could be a Tarot user because she follows the set meanings of the cards and uses her common sense to relate them to her situation. It's not as fancy as using mathematics, and that's why she wouldn't want her friends to know. And because Ron would laugh.**


End file.
